#im so god damn proud I can’t breathe

[movfie]

Academy Award Nominee Cynthia Erivo

Academy Award Nominee Ariana Grande-Butera

HOLY SHIT 😭

[criminalamnesia]

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

[hystixia]

WARNINGS 、NONCON, CHOKING, SIZE KINK, CERVIX FUCKING, DEGRADATION

NOTE 、ignore spelling errors and whatnot. i literally dont even have time to format this properly rn sorry </3 this is lowkey shit so im sorry again LMAO

You don’t know if it’s possible, but Jeff Mason found a way to completely turn your brain off. Your tongue is lolled out, eyes rolled back into your skull as you babble out whimpers and begs and incoherent slurs of his name hanging off your seemingly numb wet muscle. However he is proud of the state you’re in because of him. After all, you were his whether you liked it or not.

“Nothin’ but a dumb fuckin’ slut, huh?” He breathes out with a smirk, breath hot against your neck and his body caging yours against the soft blankets and sheets of your bed. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger than you that despite your efforts to wriggle away from his painfully good thrusts, he keeps you locked in place with his large hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave marks. “That’s right, just a needy cocksleeve, hm? Too dumb to think, just made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You can’t reply, he knows you’re unable to fathom a single response in that fucked dumb head of yours. Yet he still talks to you in a mocking tone, grinning sinisterly at your glassy eyes as you cling to the sheets and gasp loudly in between “ah”s and “omph”s that fall from your bruised lips.

“J-Jef— haah! Jeff—” “Such a whiney bitch, huh? Never shutting that whore mouth’ve yours.” He hisses out, slamming into you impossibly harder and making you scream out until your throat is scratchy and burns. A hand wraps tight around your neck much like a snake would constrict around its prey, cutting off your airflow entirely and causing panic to mix with pleasure and pain. It’s all blurred lines for you, fingers digging into the skin of his wrist as tears fall down your face and his tip brutally kisses against your soft cervix making your gut tighten with overwhelming warmth.

“Gonna cum? Already?” He sneers, tilting his head as black strands tickle against your exposed collarbones. You wish you could talk back, you wish you had the energy and dignity to not behave like a god damn pornstar. “Didn’t know y’were such a cheap whore.” He chuckles, humiliating you further as your walls flutter tight and milk his thick girth as your juices web out and leave a creamy ring around the base of his cock.

However he doesn’t stop, he keeps going and it’s too much to handle. You cry out once more, begging in such a sweet and pathetic voice that it would’ve worked on someone else— anybody else, besides Jeff.

“Expected me to stop?” He laughs, cock twitching against your walls and he’s so close you wonder how he hasn’t caved already. His hand releases your poor neck allowing you to breath right as black spots started to prickle the corners of your vision and your lungs were burning from lack of air. “You don’t get a break, slut. Now shut up and take it.”

[yourstrulyrika]

finished re8, went through a breakdown (im fine now btw no worries its just the damn ending making me lose my mind) and now im watching matpat

and out of nowhere, i got a thought about breath play so uh yeah here we go leon kennedy smut again :3 he’s in my mind 24/7 at this point. btw guys lemme know if you’d like to see other characters because i see the same situation with jill or chris ong— okay im. jill is so. okay just let me know!! i’ll be happy to oblige!!!! reqs are open so remember that :3 they’re open all the time

warnings: none it really is just leon choking you with his biceps

fem! reader btw

at first, Leon was just a tiiiiiny bit hesitant. like what do you mean you want him to choke you? what if he hurts you? but you hit him with your pretty face and he was like okay i’ll think about it

he loves doggy you know. Leon loves your body— all of it— so he loves all positions, but doggy is one of his favorites because he can spank you and watch your ass jiggle <3 he loves it

you didn’t mention the choking again. maybe he was just uncomfortable with it, you thought. but! when you were at it again, with him banging your brains out, you felt his hand on your neck, testing how you’ll react. when he feels you tightening up around him, he chuckles,

“you like this don’t you? cute.” he says in his breathy tone, that damn voice that makes you lose your mind and feel like you’re on cloud nine. he tilts your head up a little, fingers on your jaw to keep your head up, pulling you into a deep kiss to distract you. in the meantime, he wraps his bicep around your neck when you’re distracted by the kiss, squeezing gently to test the waters.

in that moment, all the hesitation has left his body. he starts liking— no, loving it now. hearing your muffled moan in his mouth is enough to push him to the edge, but not yet. your pussy is clenching around him so fucking good, he’s about to lose his damn mind, he loves it, he loves you. and your pretty pussy too of course.

your nails scratch at his arm, and he’s actually proud of it — the marks — they prove you’re feeling good and he’s there for it, they decorate his skin so prettily, he thinks. your pussy feels like heaven when you’re in this state; you barely holding on, mindless babbles and mewls leaving your mouth.

“so hot, baby. so fucking hot, can’t get enough of you.” and it’s true. Leon can never get enough of you. he’s addicted, drunk on you, so in love, all yours— literally all yours. anything you want, he’ll provide because you’re his everything and dear god he loves being yours. he tries to show it, to show how much he loves you, make you feel how much he loves you because you make his cock go crazy without doing anything.

“god, ‘m close, princess. you gonna take it yeah? be a good girl,” he growls between the thrusts. he starts getting desperate, sloppy— messily hitting his hips against yours and squeezing your neck with his arm. it feels so good — you feel like you’re drowning in him, almost trapped except you don’t want to leave. all you can think about is him and how good he’s fucking you, how well he’s hitting that one spot that makes your tongue stick out of your mouth and drool. at one point you just can’t think properly. but not to worry, you don’t need to think because Leon is doing all the job for you. you just have to lay there prettily and take his cock as it slams your sweet cunt repeatedly!! you don’t need to think — Leon’s got you <3

“she’s sucking me in so well, fuck, so sweet, love you baby,”

you noticed that every time he’s close, he starts babbling everything that comes into his mind. he’s so close, you can feel it, how he’s squeezing your neck, how he’s twitching inside you. he makes sure you cum first though, so he’s holding back. the moment he feels you coming though? he instantly cums deep inside you with a loud whine, feeling you pulse around him. he keeps going through your orgasm until you’re twitching and telling him it’s too much, overstimulation kicking in. he keeps his hand on your neck around you though! he actually came to like it. after a long moment, he pulls out and kisses your forehead,

“you look so damn pretty with my hand on your neck.” he whispers into your head, before taking you to the bathroom.

[hlficlibrary]

HIII OHHH MY GOD im the anon who asked abt the fic where harrys family was rich & the whole Barbara thing idk if u remember BUTTT i wanna say i found the fic it's write this down by sunflowerhabit I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND IT FOR ANYONE TO READ!!!!!!

Anon, I definitely remember you asking about this one! I'm so glad you found it eventually. This inspired me to go back and look through the lost fic tag on here so I'm going to put some in the queue. But anyway, for anyone who also remembers this ask and wants to read the fic here it is...

write this down by sunflouwerhabit

"And Louis responds by kissing him. He closes his eyes and presses their lips together and hopes it’s enough to distract from how those words cut and extracted critical pieces of his heart, his soul. Louis kisses Harry to avoid sobbing, yelling, pleading, begging him to never, ever use words like always or never or I promise, because they can’t. They don’t have an always. Nevers will forever remain a mere dream. Time has run out for commitments or oaths or pledges and if Louis is going to be okay- if he’s going to enjoy this time with Harry and then let him go and still feel whole- he can’t let himself start thinking long term. He can’t let this become emotional; something more than silliness and fun and sex.

He can’t hear Harry say he’s proud of him when he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again after this week.

'I miss you,' Harry murmurs, his breaths warm and equally shaky. 'All the time.'

Louis kisses him harder."

Harry leaves his hometown to find himself. Every road he takes has a single, fated destination.

the tis the damn season fic.

[wuahae]

CONGRATS AGAIN MY LOVELY SHING STAR BFF TWINSTER 4LYFER CAT!!!! im forever proud of u my lovely <333

hopefully i can send a little request of jacob (sorry i am in my crazy cobster feelings) + 8:24 pm + a library!!

(suggestive; minors dni!)

[20:24] / library

-

“jacob.”

there’s the distinct noise of your clothes rustling, wooden chair creaking as jacob leans over more, breathing in your scent as he nuzzles into the nape of your neck. “hmm?”

“jacob, not here.” a beat of silence, and then nothing. he shifts lower—higher, if you account for his hand on your thigh. you try again, voice wavering. “jacob.”

“yes, my love?”

“don’t ‘my love’ me!” you hiss, smacking him lightly. “we could get caught!”

he hums again, leisurely, innocently. “by who?”

it’s times like these you really wonder how you end up in situations like this. the only reason you were in this godforsaken (you can only hope god isn’t watching) library in the first place on a friday night was because you had this cursed essay due at midnight, and by the time you’d arrived at the library in the afternoon, you hadn’t even started. jacob had joined you around six pm with the promise of dinner together, but as the minutes ticked by and the essay wasn’t exactly writing itself, that promise seemed more futile by the second.

(“let’s go,” he’d said, tucking his chin on your shoulder as he looked over at your laptop. “you can take a little break to go eat.”

“i can’t,” you bemoaned, fingers clacking away at your keyboard, 15 separate tabs opened on your browser along with multiple other windows. “this is life or death.”

well, it might as well have been. this damn thing was worth 15% of your grade.

jacob then drawled out your name slowly, sweetly, and instinctively, you tensed. the cursor blinked on your screen, halfway through typing a word. a chill ran up your spine—you’ve known him long enough to sense danger before it came.)

and that was how the situation escalated to this, secluded in the stacks of the library, completely at your boyfriend’s mercy.

“we’re going to get banned from the library,” you manage to make out through breathless puffs of air and restrained whines as jacob inches his fingers higher up your inner thigh, tracing little shapes onto the sensitive skin. he sucks on the thin skin of your throat once, like a point of emphasis, before letting go to murmur.

“don’t worry,” he assures. “no one’s coming by here at this hour. and besides—” jacob makes his first bold move, his thumb moving up and brushing slightly over your underwear. “even if we did get caught, we wouldn’t get banned. the librarian loves me.”

he gives a little more pressure, a soft tug at the nape of your neck, and a soft moan passes by your lips before you slap your hand over your mouth, squeaking out whatever was left. “jacob!”

“so you do want to get caught,” jacob muses, warm breath twisting your stomach into knots. “i’m okay with that too, but you should have just said so from the beginning. we could have chosen a much more conspicuous—” he strokes you again, harder, and your legs spread involuntarily “—spot.”

“th…that’s not what i—” you try to say, but it all comes out jumbled from your cotton-heavy tongue, brain foggy as the ugly yellow library lights clash with the blue light emitting from the computer screen, half-written document staring right back at you. “you know i have to get this done.”

“you can spare a few moments to go eat, love.” it must be a talent of his, the ability to sound so sweet and kind even as he watches you dissolve away in his palm like wet tissue paper. no wonder no one ever believes you when you tell them of your jacob-inflicted woes. “you haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“i had a—ah—a protein bar.”

jacob tilts your chin towards him with his other hand, a disapproving look. “now we both know that isn’t a meal.”

you choke back a frustrated cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “jacob—”

“why are you calling me that?”

“what?”

“my name,” jacob says, thumbing the edge of your underwear aside. your gut twists again, breath catching as he ghosts a finger over you, fully bared for him. satisfaction seeps and settles into him, even as he tries to keep up the innocent charade, the way he smiles knowing he has you right where he wants you. he knows exactly what to expect when he starts these kinds of things with you, having done so too many times before; this time is no different. “call me cobie, like you always do.”

this is it. this truly is the end for you. everything feels so loud—your restrained moans, the rumble of the air conditioning, the slip of his finger against you that only gets more obscene as he mouths at you. cobie is for when he’s normal, when he’s kind and gentle and the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend, not when he’s like this, when he’s trying to unmake you until he’s left with only your want. it’s why you try your luck again, consequences be damned. (maybe out of spite, maybe to gain back some sense of control in the midst of his molding.) “jacob, i really don’t think that’s what we should be—”

“cobie,” he corrects, insistent. “say it with me. co—“ he draws out the syllables, sweet and melodic, hand slipping completely underneath your panties and pinching your clit “—bie.”

the surprised yelp that escapes you is unrestrained, unfiltered, the embarrassment rushing through your veins somehow just making the burning in your core grow hotter. “come on, say it,” jacob probes, and you’re fumbling to hold onto anything that can ground you: the chair edge, the table, the toned arm between your legs, flexing as he slowly drags you to a high.

“can you feel that?” he asks softly, palm pressed firm against you, slick and wet and desperate. he drags his fingers (the second is a new addition; he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches) and lets them catch at your opening. your head spins, his fingers teasing around and never in. “looks like your body is honest even when you don’t want to be.” 

jacob lingers, pauses his ministrations for a moment too long, and you let out a questioning whine in response. it’s pleading, it’s instinctive, it’s downright humiliating, but it pales in comparison to the way you feel yourself clench around nothing, the way your hips twitch and jerk, rutting against anything he’s willing to give you.

“p—please—”

jacob grinds his hand down, sucking at a spot beneath your jaw that has you clenching again, words incomprehensible and slurred and almost piteous with how much you beg. he runs a hand along your jaw and guides your face to him once again, his eyes patient and giving, the meaning you know of far too well. he’ll give you what you need, if you give him what he wants. and he stills. “‘please,’ what?”

fuck it all. fuck propriety and what’s left of your dignity and fuck that goddamn assignment. you've had your grave dug—you have for a long time. all you needed to do now is lie in it. blood pounds in your ears, white noise buzzing through your body; the defeat forms heavy on your tongue, your mind hazy and scrabbling for something. anything. (desire is a potent thing, and jacob has always known just where to press to make you crumble.) “please…cobie.”

jacob’s hand traces your cheek gently, lovingly, as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on (you are. you always have been), and smiles. “that’s my girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as his fingers beneath you draw nearer once more, ready to plunge in and claim what’s his for the taking—

a notification pops up in the corner of your laptop, the little jingle signifying a new email sounding through the empty library. lolling your head against his shoulder, you move to catch a glimpse of what could possibly be sent to you at eight in the evening, only to see an announcement that makes you forget everything that was happening prior: good evening class. due to unforeseen circumstances, the essay final draft due date will be changed to monday midnight. hope you’re all doing well. happy weekend!

you both blink at the screen, frozen. jacob pulls his hand away from you, scooching his chair back to its regular place, but you’re still reading the email over and over again to make sure you aren’t hallucinating in a fit of hysteria.

“i’m not imagining it, right?” you ask jacob dumbly, pointing at the screen. “he really posted an extension?”

“yup!” jacob grins back. “isn’t this great? now we can finally go home.”

you shut your laptop, a sigh of relief heaving from your chest as you move to slip it back into your backpack. “thank god, cause even without what you were trying to pull, i really was not going to make it in time for—what are you doing?”

hand on the edge of your chair, jacob’s pushed you out slightly from underneath the table, kneeling to slip into the gap before pulling you back in. he places one hand on each of your knees, a distinct glint in his eyes. “well, we have to finish what we started, don’t we?”

fear. dread. a strange, twisted sense of arousal. “i thought you wanted to go get dinner?”

“i do,” jacob smiles, mischievous and teasing as he spreads your legs. pliant. “dinner’s right here.”

[defensivelee]

hello to all my kinky William enjoyers out thereee! god has a plan for you, and by god i mean me, and by plan i mean a WIP from the tenth hot spring part two :)

i think i will be posting more Six Lives WIPs as time goes on bc uhh chapters are very spread out in between but im always so excited to show off what im working on and i want to feed you every now and then. some things will probably change in the final draft, or perhaps the WIP won't even appear in the end at all, but for now it's what i'll be happy with posting! if you want to read spoilz free, thats fine too :) obv i won't post any shattering plot points or anything like that

this ones some very nsfw/kinky b&w that i was very proud of and also i shamelessly found it hot so i wanted to post it like rn. i do have to give warnings for mentions of CSA, mentions of incest, having sex while intoxicated, and unhealthy BDSM practices. seriously, do not do what they did here william's just very drunk. otherwise, enjoy :]!

“Yeah...nothing...nothing, nothing, nothing, it was never anything to us...not in New Amsterdam, not to the Overlifers.” He glared up at the ceiling and took Bentinck’s hand. “And not to him.” He pulled Bentinck forward suddenly, and Bentinck gasped, his face flushing as he stared into William’s eyes. He felt the legs spreading around his own, William laughing and caressing his friend’s cheek.

“William, you...” Bentinck wanted to step away, tell him to calm down. But he let his Overlifer guide his hands, so that he found himself pulling away William’s jacket, and then his tie. William sighed in relief.

“Feels so good to have it off, Hans,” he whispered, caressing Bentinck’s cheek with one black nail. “Hm? Thank you. Clothes...fucking hate it.”

“Maybe you could try wearing less,” Bentinck said with an awkward cough.

“What do you think I’m tryna do, Hans?” William laughed again. “Get it all off, baby, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it. It’s always worse when I drink...it’s always better.”

“What?” But Bentinck, once more, did as William said, all while William clumsily undid his belt and threw it to the side. Then he brought Bentinck in for a kiss like never before.

It wasn’t exactly what the Ally had in mind, especially after today. But once he touched the divine lips he gave in, sucking on William’s tongue and stroking his horns until they were both out of breath, though that never said much for William.

“Hans,” William said in between pants, “you are going to fuck me.”

“N-No, I...” Bentinck shook his head. “We tried once. You were so scared.”

“I need that damned fox and I need you,” William growled a little too quickly. “Is this not what you fuckin’ wanted? I want it. I’m not afraid ‘n I never was.”

“William, I’m not going to do this if you don’t really want it,” Bentinck said firmly. “You don’t have to do this for anyone but yourself. It wouldn’t be good for you.”

“I just said I wanted it!” William yelled, snapping his jaws near Bentinck’s face as if he had inherited his father’s sharp teeth. Bentinck jumped back, and William chuckled as he sat up.

“Look, Hans, I got over sucking my daddy’s cock by sucking yours,” he said, grinning wickedly. “What makes you think this won’t work, too?”

“I- I really don’t think you should phrase it like that.” Bentinck let out a nervous laugh as William pulled his pants down.

“Why not? Don’t like it when I call someone else daddy?” William climbed on top of him, and Bentinck couldn’t stop staring. “Want to be the only one, is that right?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Bentinck said. He sighed, relenting at last when William began to unbutton his shirt. “So you think riding me would make it better for your first time? You’d be more in control.”

“He made me ride him, too. When I was sixteen.”

“Oh.” Bentinck looked away. He really didn’t know what to say to that. William was never this forward.

“I’ll be fine,” William said. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, okay?” He shut his eyes, and Bentinck wondered if he was really talking to himself instead. He was tempted to tell him to stop this, he was just drunk and he had no idea what he wanted, but then William was on him and he was so beautiful and he didn’t seem afraid anymore when Bentinck was in him.

It was everything Bentinck thought it might have been. He could tell it hurt William at first, but he seemed to like it even then. He took hold of Bentinck’s wrists and bowed his head, his breaths short and matching his movements. Bentinck gripped his waist to help him out, letting out his own huffs through his clenched teeth. There was never, ever going to be anything that would feel better than this.

“Hans,” William gasped, “hit me.”

“W-Where?”

“Anywhere. Leave a mark.”

“Should we- should we not talk about this first?”

“Fucking hit me, Ally.”

So Bentinck slapped his thigh hard, and William tossed his head back with a vicious roar in his moans. “Oh, Ferocity! Harder, harder, Hans!”

“Again?” Bentinck had to admit, he was pleased with the result of that.

“On my face...please.”

Bentinck slapped his face, tugged William around by his horns and tail, shoved his head back by a grip on his hair, all things William asked for and met with a howl Bentinck would have found hilarious if it really wasn’t so hot. When William lay back on the bed and ordered him to continue that way, he didn’t hesitate— he pinned his master’s arms beside his head and fucked him as an Overlifer was meant to be serviced. William arched his back, crying out and hissing like an animal.

“You’re so fucking hot, William, I hope you know that,” Bentinck leaned in to say.

“And you’re...you’re so big, oh, shit...” William was wheezing dangerously, but neither of them were done yet, and Bentinck only stopped if William told him to. “Blindfold me.”

Bentinck looked around, briefly stopping to reach out for his own tie he’d been wearing what felt like hours ago and tying it tightly around William’s head. That was when William turned around and ordered Bentinck to continue that way, and Bentinck gladly did so, holding William’s tail up just to look at himself inside of the Overlifer.

“Hold my arms back, don’t let me fucking move, pussy—!” William shouted, and Bentinck pinned his arms back, shoving into him as much as he could. William jolted forward with a snarl, his legs shaking. “Fuck, yes! Cum in me, Hans, I want your children!”

Bentinck burst out laughing, just as he came inside William, and then everything was meaningless from there. The only thing that mattered was William gasping, his tightness around Bentinck and his whines under his breath.

“Thank you, sir...thank you...thank you...”

Bentinck paused to catch his breath, then leaned forward to pull down the tie from William’s eyes. “You don’t have to say that to me,” he said with a smile. “I was doing it all for- for you. And I loved it.”

But William didn’t answer. His eyes were screwed shut, his breaths short, and Bentinck rubbed at his back. “William? Do you need your inhaler?”

William opened his eyes and nodded. “It’s...just you.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank the- thank the dwaallichten.” He took Bentinck’s hand and didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

[embossross]

i call myself a writer, but i literally have no words. you’ve left me utterly speechless. i’ll say this though, that was probably one of the most romantic things i’ve ever read. and i’ve read A LOT of romance. i cried. LIKE A BABYYYY!!!! kicking my feet and taking deep breaths as if i’m the one going thru the heartbreak lol. that’s how much of an amazing writer you are. ugh ran was really the slap in the face rindou needed to man tf up. i honestly love how you wrote the haitanis connection and how much ran truly cares for his brother. it really is the world vs. them. ran is speaking from experience and honestly … i really can’t wait until we get to see rans story in BOTB. he only wants the best for his brother and !!!!!!! he was right. the reader is the best for rindou. reader held her self SO well?! she has so much self respect i should take notes. she is so powerful and you write it so damn well. i got so emotional it was literally so lovely reading the way rindou feels/thinks/speaks about the reader. i love seeing how desired the woman is from the males POV. he’s so down bad sksnsj. ugh AND he really is ranked canon best boyfriend huh. i actually really like how they’re both committed to each other now (i’m such a slut for commitment and this really scratched the itch in my brain) but are allowed to do some scenes with others, shh but it’s a secret headcanon i had for them but now it’s literally cannon LMAO :,) it’s so cute. i wish i had better words but im so bad at explaining my feelings lol. you did it so well. you really broke rindou down to nothing and then built him right back up again. it was just so tender and soft and sweet and everything in between. the whole ‘making love’ part …. god. so good. so gooooood. it’s as soft as they can be lol. i can’t wait to see where they go from here. ugh but honestly thank youuuu literally it was the best update to wake up to yesterday 💖❤️💝 you do it so well. have a great week , kisses!!!!!🥰

truly and sincerely one of the loveliest reviews i could ever receive. thank you so so so much 🥰🥰🥰

i was inordinately proud of the first half of the chapter, and then pretty mixed on the 2nd half. i think i was worried it was too much for rindou's character, that i was making too big a departure for him. i kept having to rewrite because he would say something too sappy or eloquent. it was just a really hard chapter all around, so to hear that i not only thread that needle but it was one of THE most romantic things you've ever read? 🤯🤯🤯

[ieroween1031]

My Thoughts in Real Time as I Watched Episode 13 of Love in the Air That Absolutely Nobody Asked For:

- IM SO EXCITED I CANT BREATHE

- I can’t believe this is the (second to) last time I’m gonna see this intro, I already want to cry

- Fucking Sig, I love him so much.

- Can we get a spin-off just dedicated to Sig?

- Rain, you nosy motherfucker. We love you for this.

- Also, I’m so totally here for Sky finally not holding back his emotions. Agreeing to give Pai a ‘prize’ if he wins? We love to see it.

- Prapai’s posting picture of Sky on his Instagram? I’m fucking dead.

- These episode names are too much. Can’t do it!

- Aww, little baby Sky.

- Sky smoking? Oof. I don’t care how gross it is, smoking is hot. Sue me.

- If that was really the first time Sky took a drag of a cigarette, he’d have coughed it all back out. The first few cigarettes as a new smoker suck, and they fucking hurt.

- On that note, don’t smoke, kids! It’s bad for you!

- I knew that it was gonna be Gun, and as soon as I saw him, I honest to god growled. Fucker.

- Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. (To myself and to Sky)

- Listen to your friends, Sky!

- Okay, smoking’s not hot when this fucking dickbag does it.

- This should go without saying, but for everyone out there reading this, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or hurt you unless you’re into it. Don’t go along with shit you’re not comfortable with just to prove that you love someone. Fuck them, fuck their feelings, protect yourself.

- Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox now.

- Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I don’t wanna watch this.

- I can’t imagine how hard this was for Peat. The reaction video is gonna hurt.

- Fuck, I hope someone kills this fucking asshole.

- I know this is an emotional scene, but I’m losing my shit over Pai calling Sky ‘baby’

- THIS FUCKING COCKMONGER AGAIN?

- Take your fucking eyes off of him and wipe that smirk off your face, you shitbird.

- Fluffy PrapaiSky will be the death of me.

- I’m so proud of Sky for not being afraid and being able to admit how he feels. My sweet baby has come so far!

- The look of terror on Sky’s face when he didn’t know who was hugging him is just one giant foreshadow and I hate it.

- “My lucky star” 😭😭😭😭

- Payu is 1000% done with Pai’s lovesick ass like he probably wasn’t just as bad a few months ago.

- We need more Payu/Sky and Prapai/Rain. The boyfriend/best friend dynamic is so freaking cute.

- Every time I see that bastard, I get so fucking angry.

- I was gonna yell at Sky to run as soon as he saw Gun, but I remember when someone who looked like my abuser walked into my job and I shut down and just completely froze, so I understand why he couldn’t run.

- It’s absolutely killing me that Pai knows that Petch is a slimy little snake, but that he doesn’t know why.

- Yes, Sky! You stand up for yourself! Your man loves you, and don’t forget it!

- Rain, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I kinda wanna smack you.

- Rain really is a gold(fish)en retriever, isn’t he? Head empty, no thoughts, attention span that only lasts two seconds, but damn it, he’s a good boy that’s trying his best.

- I feel nauseous watching Sky walk into that apartment.

- You fucking liars. I’m so angry.

- I’m so glad that Sky doesn’t believe them. It’s amazing to see how much he’s changed.

- Sky Protection Squad in full force, yes! Go rescue him!

- Where the fuck are Rain and Payu while Pai and Gun are in the bedroom? Are they just making tea with the other assholes that were in the apartment? Come on, guys.

- Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

- Love him to death, but for the love of method acting, someone please teach Fort how to properly throw a punch.

- He should have killed him. And Payu should have hit Petch, too.

- I don’t know what hurts more, Sky being catatonic and not being able to cry, or Pai sobbing for him.

- He brought him home. Like, home, home.

- That picture of the two of them on Pai’s desk, I could cry.

- I don’t even have any more thoughts, I’m just happy that Gun and Stop are gone, all four of my boys are happy, and that Pai knows everything about Sky now.

- There are a bunch of scenes from the novel that I’m sad were not in the series, but that could be a whole separate post.

- WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?

- Aside from finish KinnPorsche (I still have two episodes left), catch up on Remember Me and Between Us, binge all the other shows I have on my To Watch list, and tear my hair out waiting for Just Say Yes.

- Excuse me while I rewatch the entire series over and over.

[thevampirearchive]

Commentary on Interview With The Vampire - Episode 1 (Spoilers)

Shorter thoughts vers

Barely fully in and it already looks beautiful. Was the budget in the billions because this shit is so crisp, fuck!

Hannah Baker was out-fucking performed. TAPES RO HARRASS A DYING MAN WHO DIDNT USE YOUR VAMPIRE SECRET? Lestat would be so proud!

I am so happy this is the direction they chose — brining us to modern time, the only time I wanna hear about the pandemic in entertainment media. And all while humanity does, Louis is stuck in his high tower with some high tech ass Dubai apartment? Purr.

Nvm, Mans seem sick of it lmao. Stuck there in his own personal house-coffin (I’d still prefer a coffin, and I feel like Lestat would have never chosen a place penthouse. He’s too French for modern builds. “Louis? NO QUALITY WOODEN COFFIN?” He’d say, in a French accent, in disgust.

I am a whore for period piece and they’re taking us to 1910 AND New Orleans? Spoiled. We’ve been spoiled.

Gosh the vulgar language, I am shaking from excitement! Pls!

I know a lot of black folks hate it when they have the white say the n-word, but that ‘unhand me nigger’ comment killed me, that white man forgot where he was for a second

I too agree, anal without consent is against god (I screamed, the whores are funny)

Not Paul tryna play captain save a Ho, man’s brough a Bible Too — I love him.

THE BRAWL! And this whole time Lestat is watching like it’s forplay for later.

HE PULLED A SWORD ON HIS OWN BROTHER? That’s cold Lou, but I respect it, gotta do what you gotta do.

Lestat watching, BRICKED UP, and I cannot believe nobody’s falling in love like this ANYMORE. WE USED RO BE A SOCIETY! (How I imagine Lestat internally, as he watch his man pull a whole sword out of his Pimp 3000 Cain)

Pls not the disgusted faces on the white men watching Louis walk in!!! Fighting for their lives to not say sum — TRY IT :^b

The lines should have been “damn so they just letting anybody in” so I could have really lost it. His racism wasn’t racist enough — I predicted they’d make him a proper French (racist) but they didn’t drive it all the way, and I get why. Can’t have the protagonist calling the other protagonist a nigger after all (well I haven’t seen Ep. 2 so perhaps) but it would be accurate. I just don’t believe white ppl weren’t racist, even the DOCTOR was sliming it around and that’s the homie, y’a know?

Awww Lestat is like a tarot girlie after watching one Tiktok reading and suddenly she sees 11.11 everywhere. “Ah Louis?! I was heading to St. Louis? Hahah so you’re my saint haha”, Lestat pls you look desperate pls breath baby breath (same tho)

His French is so good!  Ça m’a pris par surprise! Qu’est-ce qu’il est français ou il est juste un bon acteur? I could Google it, but how else will I flex that I too, speak French. Lestat is actually my cousins neighbor, oui oui baguette.

LMAOOOO “that explains the attire” SHOTS FIRED. Man’s came for his whole fit, and Lestat laughed it off cuz he’s in love, wow.

Lestat is such a scorpio sun libra Mercury scorpio mars because who tells a story, LEANS FOR A SLUTTY KISS and continues with the same elegance? He’s such a slut, I love it!

The way he just had foreplay and the whole time Louis fighting for his life to not bust. Cuz what? Watching a man touch a woman that way with their gaze fixed on you only? He’s playing with you Lou! RUN (not to fast tho, make it clap as you go tihi)

Am I wrong for thinking Louis was not just mad that Lestat froze him but that he knows without much effort? He knows Louis a raging homosexual and it’s been what? Minutes? Pls!

“I’ve emptied a bank volt to sample” LESTAT! He’s a whore but I’m still shocked, I knew this BUT IM STILL SHCOKED!

He really saw Louis in the act for seconds and decided to not just stay but get a home, furnish it, get a wardrobe, ignore that it’s basically a red light district (sure there’s buisness but he comes off too french to ever accept to live near the sound of cheeks being clapped) JUST cuz Louis is there. When will it be me god?

“You are his destiny Louis”— istfg if I do not experience this soon I will combust. PlS!

The bidding war was so hot and then he placed his ring and I felt it in every fiber of my being. Can’t beleive Lilly didn’t say ‘just get y’a cocks out and let’s do it the proper way’ the way they were slinging

Louis’ idk if I wanna be him, beat him or fuck him moment was real, man’s was fighting gay thoughts with all his might (and looses, later)

His mind filled with just Lestat huh? So the gay thought’s won? I wonder if he tells Lestat that? If he does I think lestat’s head will grow too big for his hats.

Thé poker game was smooth and I love how Louis just went meh, and didn’t question the time freezing, the voice in his mind or the enormous compliment — you are worth more, king. Big ups.

Pls Not them having put and Louis bring smt to read, he’s such a weirdo bro we know you know he’s basically taking you out on dates and you love it! PUT THE BOOK DOWN AND FLIRT BACK *holds up a gun*

THE CINEMA! Such cultured lads! I love them. Out here watching while Lestat watching his snack, I MEAN HIS MAN, I MEAN HIS BUISNESS PARTNER

‘He’s not white he’s French’ — this is what all white Man’a whore tell themsleves. Didn’t I fucking predict they’d say that? Lmaoo I did!

NOT HIM CALLING HIS MOM MAMMA DU LAC! He’s tryna fit in and Paul fighting back from saying sum (not too hard tho cuz now he’s going in lmao GET HIM LIL BRO)

“What’s the nature of your relationship with my brother” All my mind can think off is ‘everybody knows… everybody knows that he fucks you’. Cuz why would he ask that? Clearly that’s your future brother in law AND PAUL KNEW! The voices told him he was amongst the gays tihi

Okay Lestat pls don’t trauma dump on Paul lmao, answer the question or politely ignore it cuz I feel like Paul has some ‘you’ve got the wrong time but the right bitch’-him and just swing cuz what? But I think he’s being pulled in so he couldn’t even move if he wanted to.

NOT LOUIS SETTING IT STREIGHT! Idk why I thought he’d be a pushover after all the dreamy stairs Lestat has given him:)

This is all I can imagine Lestat thinking as he dinned with black ppl probably for the first time ever — rich and educated at that.

Please! A Lilly for his front pocket and a Lilly for Louis to do nothing with but entertain him, tihi

Not her revealing he’s gay, girl, bffr. “It’s okay” this strange white man now knows too fucking much babes but whatever

THE ALMOST TOUCH! I had to close the screen sorry I am used to fluff only (no I am not, but that yanked me)

now he’s in his head, fucking his mind and eyes and watching him get hard for him cuz Lilly ain’t doing shit but be a buffer. A pretty buffer getting a taste of Lestats man FOR NOW! Good *gets closer to screen* IS THAT FINGER SUCKING? Even pulling away in disgust was not convincing babes, !BE WHO YOU ARE!

THE FIGHT FOR DOMINANCE! MY GOSH AND THE RELEASE! It’s like he was pretending before going full ‘yeah now after we’ve kissed and touched titties, you know I’m into it so let me chill’ and he went lax, and now they floating, fucking and sucking. Gosh, this better win an award.

No because I fully beleive being drank from by a vampire is the closest thing humans will ever get to experience true euphoria and that’s why I will not simply be turned immediately. MAKE ME YOUR BLOODBAG FOR AT LEAST SEVEN DAYS AND SEVEN NIGHTS PLS I need to feel the THRILL

That was the most romantic, tender yet agressive love making bloodsucking scene I’ve ever witnessed. I’m bricked up, down there and up here (holds heart)

The wedding! This about to be good cuz y’all know black ppl know how to celebrate!

ARGH THE MONEY TO HER DRESS! The diaspora is ALIVE!

Thé dancing! Arghhhh this show is so freaking black, I love it! Anne is probably rolling in her grave, arguing with Satan to be resurrected so she can sue. Love it here

THE THROWN MONEY! YAAAAAAAS! Y’all don’t understand! This how we really be!!!! Black folks RISE! This one’s for us!

Now they climbing a whole roof just to … see the sunset? Babes… bffr.

Awww “I love you-“ why did that sound like a Goodby! Where is HEGOING NO-

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

Noooooooo! I’m fenna cry, PLEASE NOT PAUL! (I knew he dies but I also forgot but I also was just enjoying myself and they caught me slipping. Now I’m pausing to take deep breaths…)

And that was his last sunrise? Yeah, cuz the fucking cameras.

Pls not death is boring… Speak for yourself, some of us have yet to try >:( ( but I’ll probably agree. It’s so inevitable like boo, give us smt fresh, smt unexpected!)

Not his mama tryna blame him… pushed? Babes be fucking Fr rn. Fuck sakes. And his sister not defending or nun. She probably wanted him gone and now she got it.

I just feel bad cuz suicide is a sin and still he did it :/ sad.

MANS PULLED UP TO THE FUNERAL! Lestat you are sick (I love it). PLEASE NOT HIM ACTUALLY NOT GAF! Didn’t even wear black, even tho I know that wardrobe fully stocked!

“Not here” Louis says and Lestat is on sims ‘I texted, I called, I send a pigeon and nothing, ignoring me huh?

THE GASP THAT LEFT ME! NO LESTAT YOU CANT SAY THAT AT THE WALK TO THE FUNERAL! All in attempt to ‘pick me, choose me, love me’ into Louis’ heart, now Louis ready to fist fight you in the same streets you fell for him tsk me tsk tsk. Maybe y’all should step to the side and kiss. Cuz clearly Lestat was NOT leaving …

This is the lvl of toxic and possessiveness I thought I’d see in twilight… y’all fooled me. Cuz Bella would have loved this ngl and I’d have loved it more but Edward is a runner and a track star. Lestat tho? He’d probably kill the whole town for Louis to notice him.

This man went to the burial, didn’t even wait for his obsessive fangirl behavior, AND he killed Lilly leaving nobody for Louis to turn to. Now man’s fighting for his life and all I’m wondering is why no other vampire in history has ever been this obsessive so I’d know this is how fucked up I am (derogatory) wow. Went to every fucking limits just so Louis wouldn’t know peace.

NOT THE CONFESSIONAL WITH THE PRIEST! Louis you don’t even beleive! It’s giving “Ariana! What are you doing here!”

Did Lestat not think of the priest? Tsktsk didn’t even eliminate all sources of outlet! Should have burnt the church, house, brothers and had every townsman flee just to get a text back. For legal reasons I am joking…

Nvm, he barely got into the juicy bits before man’s was dragged out and is now being devoured. (Kinda hot. Didn’t even let Louis finish)

At this point, whenever Louis doesn’t breath is Lestat direction it’s PICK ME CHOOSE ME LOVE ME. He’s so obsessive *plays obsessed by Mariah Carey*

All I see is Lestat being so angry and hurt that Louis went to confess to a god he does not beleive in before he came to Lestat. Like damn. You’d rather come here then come to me ? “Do I mean that little to you-“ type of hurt. :( Aww babes, he’s just afraid cuz once he comes to you, it’s over. That’s the beginning of a life he doesn’t beleive he can have and he’s want all of you … can’t be gay and black in these parts (time + place) I fear

Please not the stabbing! 😭 babes pls you know this man isn’t a regular man, he drank from you and you decided to never speak to him again for a reason.

Pls not the slowmo! It looks so fucking cool! Even when he eats ppl it’s so agressive and looks so painfull! Love messy eater vampires.

“I’m not the devil- but I can give you death-“ Pls why has nobody offered me this ?? It’s not fair! “I love you Louis, you are loved.” Nawl I’m fenna cry. (And I am crying)

Envious that this is not my character arch, I am stuck consuming it rather then being CONSUMED! He wanted to create an infinity Between them. Remove death AND life from the equation!

That was the most beautiful asking ever. The way their just :’) This is such a tender, romantic, loving moment. That moment was … beautiful. I have no words! I too forgot the barbaric scene (lmao as did Louis ofc)

AND THEN CAME THE NOD! THE KISS AND THE BITE! The way he kissed him, alone, I could tell he released all fears and pain he had in this life. Fear of loving a man, of being who he was, pain of being at fault for things — for his role as a pimp, him as a son, a brother to his brother, a provider for his family. The one who promised his father strength without truly ever wanting it but doing it because he was good at it. He was hurting so much and Lestat just liberated him (too bad Louis doenst realize this too is a prison, but with a nice view, unhinged love of your life and a future daughter, have fun)

That was perfect. The description of the transformation — THE HAARTBEATS! Gosh I wanna be able to have senses heightened this much! ImGAINE!

I am SCREAMING it was so quick! I’m a whore for varsity in transformations! Some vampires die and require burials. Some are dead for much longer! EVERYYING! EVERYTHING

This was dead ass the best vampire tv show I’ve ever seen. They gave me black ass moments and I am living! TENDERNESS, POSSESSION! OBSESSION, trauma, laughter, depth! Script was INCREIDBLE! These are really good writers! What a team! And the actors? Give those two their fucking awards RIGHT NOW!

I cannot believe we’re witnessing the best vampire show unfold right before us.

[bonbonthedragon]

Miraculous Blobulous

Pro!bakugou x Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, yelling, more fluff, crack

Summary: bakugou is proud of the blob

Note:… um…hey…yeah

“KATSUKI!”

A sudden thud echoed through the hall, papers falling after and a head poking out. Another followed and kirishima and deku looked over at you. Kamanari, picking himself up off the floor, then joined in and gripped the edge of his office room, soon everyone was staring questioningly and worryingly.

You gave your friends a baffled look, throwing your hands in the air as if they were stupid “WHERES MY HUSBAND?!”

Before they could open their mouths, said husband came grumbling out of the elevator, soot soaking his clothes and the color on his suit now black too. He coughed, removing his mask and taking a heavy step. Once he did he gasped, a hurdling weight bumping into him and sending him down and onto the floor. He hurriedly wrapped his arms around it, cushioning who ever body slammed him before he yelled at how idiotic they were. But then he saw that idiot was you.

“Hey Kacchan” Kamanari said mockingly with a smirk “(y/n)s here, she wants to see you.”

“Yeah dip ship I see that-“ he looked down at you, sitting up with his hands on your waist “what-“

“LOOK AT OUR BLOB!” And you shoved the picture in his face. Bakugou grabbed it, taking it from you to get a better look at what you just shoved in front of him. While he looked you only continued to crawl more on top of him, getting around to look at the photo with him and point at the grayish white illuminate figure in the middle. His brows furrowed, staring hard at the paper only for them to widen quickly and realize the paper he was holding was an ultrasound.

Slowly bakugou turned his head to stare at you, “what…”

Looking back at him you rolled your eyes “okay I know it’s not a full baby yet but look! Little blob baby!” You took the photo closer to your eyes, studying it “Now I know I’m a surgeon but I really can’t make this out too well- after all I’m only 8 weeks in- so-“ you pointed at an end “I think this may be her head- well- assuming it’s going to be a girl-“

“Your pregnant?” The blond croaked, searching your eyes

You gave him a dumb look, snorting “yeah” you giggled, looking up just to see your other friends with wide eyes. That’s when you froze, looking back at your husband, realizing “oh…that’s what I forgot.”

Bakugou blinked a few times before grabbing your shoulders, making your mouth shut and stare back, he switched from your left to right eye, holding his breath until he choked “you…” he placed a dirty soot covered, yet gentle, hand on your stomach “your pregnant?” He asked again in disbelief

you gave a wobbly smile “surpriseeeee…heh”

The longer he looked at you the more your smile dissipated. He finally spoke again “I…it’s mine?- it’s ours?” He asked again

Again your grin appeared, nodding like a child and trying hard not to let your body bounce form excitement. He gripped the paper and you, using that hero strength you loved so much and stood up, you squeaked. Bakugou gave the photo a prideful smirk “THATS MY BLOB!”

“HELL YEAH!” You yelled too

He began with you down the hall, skipping his office and passing the others all the while shoving the ultrasound in each of their faces like he did back then when he won the sports Festival a second time in a row with the medal, “THATS OUR FUCKING BLOB. LOOK AT IT! I MADE THAT! ME AND HER! LIKE FUCKING GODS!”

His assistant came in, shrieking and papers flying when bakugou, you sitting on his arm and his other with the photo, came around the corner suddenly “LOOK!”

The woman began to shake, fixing her glasses and nodding along “that’s gr-great s-sir”

“YOUR BET YOUR ASS IT IS!” He yelled once more, “TELL DAMN SHITTYHAIR AND THE OTHERS IM TAKING THE DAY OFF EARLY.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you��ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[idy-ll-ique]

Just Peachy.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute

Requested: nope

Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!

---

"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.

Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.

Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."

Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.

She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.

Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.

Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"

He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.

At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.

Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.

He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.

"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.

Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.

"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."

Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.

God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.

She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.

"Baby?"

"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.

"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.

"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."

I love you, too.

"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.

Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."

And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.

"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."

"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."

"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.

"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."

"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.

She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"

"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.

---

"Ran…"

Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.

Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"

"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.

"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."

"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.

Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.

He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.

Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."

It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.

His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.

How had she gotten so lucky?

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3

[fandom-monium]

Kinky but Not Really

Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi

Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.

Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 

Even if you’re weird.

Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.

But somehow you still manage to surprise him.

“You want me to what?” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”

Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”

You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 

“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”

“Oh my god⏤”

“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”

You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”

“What the-when did you up your demands?”

You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.

How can he say no?

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”

⏤

The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.

David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.

Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.

Then there’s Luke.

“You!”

Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”

“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 

“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”

“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”

And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 

She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

“... Not a clue.”

Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”

“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.

“You didn't see them today, have you?" 

"No?"

Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”

Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”

(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)

“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”

(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)

“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.

She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”

“Bring me back from what?”

They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.

“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 

“A what?”

Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”

“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”

“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 

"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"

"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 

"I've never wanted to be this close to you."

"My sweet summer child is no longer."

"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”

Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”

“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.

Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”

Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 

But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”

Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”

“Dude, are you crying?”

⏤

“So you couldn't do it, huh?"

Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”

“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.

Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.

So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 

A final stand, if you will.

You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”

You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.

At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.

Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Your jaw slackens.

The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?

“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 

You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”

...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.

Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.

Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”

He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.

Especially because you’re weird.

⏤

AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops

to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨

pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!

i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳

[moxfirefly]

Oh... Bitch. #19 and I request Mikey. I wanna see your magic and well... His. 😏🧡

Oh yes, let’s get it!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Michelangelo was dumbfounded. Truly stumped at the sentence that rolled out of your mouth.

He must’ve misheard, it wouldn’t be the first time, his mind always running a hundred per hour but this wasn’t the case.

Michelangelo gripped your feet, massaging the soles as you spoke. The two of you sat on the couch in the truck. It had taken several weeks of begging but Mikey had managed to swear on a stack of Wu-Tang vinyls that if Donnie lended him the truck he would return it in its complete safe mint condition. The reason for this was he wanted to take his girl out for a drive, maybe park somewhere nice, watch the night life, the city lights.

It was gonna be a perfect date for sure.

After some driving around, totally showing off that he so was a responsible driver unlike what his brothers suspected, he had parked. The two of you moved to the back part and enjoyed every nifty little gadget for entertainment that Donnie had installed.

So now as the two of you settled and talked about everything, the topic had shifted to sex.

For Mikey, even if his actual reptile brain was vibrating at the possibility of sex, he knew some of these talks were a means for you to find your ground. The topic often came up, not to say things hadn’t gotten pretty heated between the two of you, but it never escalated above some heavy petting.

Tonight though, Mikey’s brow bones shot up over the reason why you were still apprehensive of taking that final step. The reason though, just left him feeling incredulous.

“What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex?!” Mikey sat up better, attention at high when you covered your face and laughed. “It happens, Mike. More often than one would like but the guys I’ve been with just...” You trailed off, the situation was embarrassing as if.

Mikey bounced the information in his brain, were you afraid he would be another on the list? Then again it could be understandable, this was his first serious relationship. You noticed his pensive gaze and scooted close. “Hey im not saying you aren’t gonna get the job done, but my experiences just haven’t been earth shattering” You grabbed his hand, thumbs pressing on his palms.

Mikey shrugged with a shy smile. “Well, I think I can change that string of bad luck” The confidence was there and you couldn’t deny it was something that often made you giddy on the inside. With no hesitation you pressed your smiling lips to his, you felt the tips of his fingers caress beneath your chin. If there was something the orange banded ninja felt confident about, it was his ability to kiss. Often a time had he seen that glazed, love drunk gaze on you after a particularly steamy makeout session. Wether a soft, ghosting of a teasing kiss to those more messier saliva exchanging kisses. Mikey simply just knew how to work his mouth.

And you would be a god damn liar if you hadn’t fantasized about said mouth doing other things.

There in the softly lit back of the truck, you let yourself fall into the familiar ache that his mouth caused you. A few weeks ago you had ridden his thigh to the point of your nethers throbbing with a terrible need. Mikey’s lips teasingly kissed towards your neck, carefully raking his teeth over the sensitive spots. His kissing alone was far superior than those of your ex lovers, Mikey’s attention to detail when it came to your sweet spots was critical for him. He knew your neck was free game, too easy but he’d learned about your shoulders, about squeezing your waist and pressing you against himself.

He was well aware of raining down some cocky comments against your mouth or ears would deliver fantastic results.

You pulled back just an inch, eyes scanning his. You caressed his face, thumbs running across his lips, shiny with the taste of yours.

“Okay, let’s try it out” You spoke softly, cheeks flushed but eyes so very certain. He felt his heart rattle inside of him, nervousness rose but he fought against it when your hands caressed him so lovingly. You could reassure him with a look often times but if you touched him, ran your hands over his cheeks or arms, whatever self doubt would melt away.

Everything melts with Mikey.

Just like now, somewhere along the various sounds inside of the truck and the soft music playing you got up and started to undress before him. Mikey’s frozen in place but not out of fear or embarrassment but more so because he doesn’t want to miss a second of what you are giving him. Intimate parts of you he’d only gotten his fingertips to brush or lips to kiss. He’s mesmerized, hypnotized truly. Watching jeans slide down your legs and a sweater fall somewhere near your shoes. He can’t take his eyes off of you, sweaty hands pushing down his own shorts as he kicks off his shoes, thankful for not being in his full usual gear.

Mikey swallows dryly when your knees hit the couch, straddling his lap and effectively trapping him in your scent. Lazily you feel his hands on your hips steadying you. The kissing picks up again and you’ve never felt more in tune with somebody.

Somewhere along the heat his fingers find the clasp of your bra, hand at the back of his head you give him that nudge to do what he’s so very much craved. Burying his face between the two fleshy mounds he inhaled and shuddered against softness. Biting your lip you try to grind down on him, lost in the content sigh that blows hot air against your sternum.

“Mikey...” It’s a whisper against his temple, felt so deeply within his soul that can’t help but tug you closer to him. “You’re like, beautiful” He’s punch drunk and you’re pretty sure he just said that to your breasts but it brings chuckling smile out of you. “You’re not so bad yourself either” You take your lustful moment to run your hands down his chest, enamored with the texture, aroused by the strength you feel beneath your fingertips. You take a daring second to lean down and lick a slow stripe up his neck. Mikey felt like he short circuited with just that, he wondered if the rest of you would cause more of those sensations.

So he can’t help but find out. He moves you to lay down on the cozy couch, settled between your legs he grinds against your clothed heat. You want him already, quiet little moans escape you and go straight to his hard on. His underwear is past his hips and yours is pushed to the side and that familiar burn knocks the wind out of you cause it’s never felt this strongly. The shape of him makes you lift your hips to seek him out further and Mikey moans something guttural against your chest when he bottoms out in you.

“Fu-uck, oh god” It’s so sincere and muffled against your left breast that you’re secretly proud you caused that in him. He’s wary of his weight, one arm above your head to grip the armrest the other dug beneath your low back. He keeps you just the way you want to and the rest is your legs tightly snug against his waist, the edges of his shell digging in. That first cautious thrust is accompanied by his lips around your nipple. You shudder against him, the overwhelming sensation catching you off guard. You watch the arm above you flex, muscle twitch with his next thrust. He’s hitting spots that no other lover had bothered to, tongue twirling around your nipple alternating between sucking and biting the flesh.

You cuss, feel yourself shudder and stick to him with desire. “Jesus just-god!” You’re a mess of words when he licks all the way to your earlobe and bites down. “Just what? Hmm, girly you’re so warm around my dick” You must be red, every inch of you must be crimson because hearing him talk like that shouldn’t affect you that much. Mikey’s clearly riding the high of it, noticing how you clench around him and pull him into wet warmth.

Soon enough he’s thrusting harder, quicker and the truck is filled with panting and praising. You run your hands up his plastron, enjoying how that makes him buck more. He finds you lips and kisses you with a need that can’t be measured, tongue entwining with yours. The hand that had been so viciously holding the armrest snakes down your side and in between both of yours moving bodies. You feel the pad of his rough thumb slowly circle your hardened clit and the feeling is enough to moan into his mouth. Mikey licks the roof of your mouth and recaptures your mouth and it’s dizzying. The soft but firm circles on your sensitive nub make you squirm and tremble. It’s too many feelings at once, his cock filling you up, lips on yours distracting and that’s treacherous little motion of his thumb.

Soon you start to feel it, a tightening, a tension that makes you seek his thrusts out more. You want to moan but his kiss muffles it, tongue so busy making you needier. Mikey rubbed faster this time, the salacious wet sounds mixed with the sounds of slapping. You’re teetering and it’s too much for you to be able to concentrate on the kiss. Your mouth opens and you gasp when that free fall feeling hits. Mikey rubs and pounds and you cum. Your eyes shut tight as you scream, gushing around his length and spasming. Your back arches, hands trying to grab or push at anything. Mikey jackhammers the last of what he can and cums hard only making you shiver and spasm more. He buries his face between your sweaty breast, harsh breaths hitting the skin.

You find feelings against in your legs and your heart allows you to relax in the post coital bliss. “Was...Was that good?” Mikey sounds dead but so deeply satisfied and you giggle, the movement making your chest vibrate and he happily nuzzles your chest. “More than good, I think I lost my vision for five seconds” He snorts and you smile as you affectionately caress the back of his head.

“...Wanna go again?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely” He grins against your skin.

[hivesfics]

pierce through me, eren x reader

Cross posted to ao3 under “dickshapedclouds”

Warnings: semi public, strangers, nipple piercings, oral fem and male receiving, photo taking, eren is very cocky

You couldn't believe you let Sasha talk you into this. A drunken conversation about wanting a new piercing turned into her demanding you get your nipples pierced. You knew it was because she liked living vicariously through you and she secretly wanted nipple piercings, but was too scared to get them.

"So you're going today right? Right? Can I come with?"

"Fucking hell, Sash. Yes I'm going today, no you cannot come with me." You groan, exasperated.

"Oh c'mon, I've seen your tits plenty of times." Sasha grins, grabbing the aforementioned part of your body and squeezing before releasing.

You swat playfully at her and roll your eyes, pushing her aside.

"I don't care, I'd rather you not see me cry when I get a needle shoved through my nipples."

"You've literally gotten snot in my hair from crying once." She groans, throwing her head back and stomping like a child.

"If I get you donuts after my appointment will you shut up?"

"I- yes."

"Thank god. I've got to go or else I'll be late. You can see them after I get home."

"Deal." Sasha grins, slapping you on the back as you exit your shared apartment.

It doesn't take but 10 minutes to arrive at the joint tattoo and piercing studio. You can't help the nervous, but giddy feeling inside of you.

This wasn't your first piercing, you had multiple. But with each new one you couldn't help being excited.

"Back again, get a life." Jean, the secretary, teases.

"Shut your mouth, is Levi still in?"

"Nah, but we've got a new piercer here. Let me get him."

He stands from the front desk and makes his way to the back. There's some shouting and a few moments later Jean returns with a male.

Hes covered in piercings and tattoos, brunette hair pulled into a messy bun. You can't help but flush at the fact that someone so attractive will be seeing and touching your breasts.

Even if it was in a professional manner.

"This is Eren, he's a little asshole." Jean rolls his eyes.

"Shove it up your ass, horseface. Nipple appointment, right?" Eren insults Jean before turning to you.

"Uh- y-yeah."

"Awesome, let's go back and I'll get everything sterilized and set up."

The giddy feeling has now dipped more into anxious territory. You follow Eren to the back, taking a seat on the piercing chair.

"If you wanna go ahead and take your shirt off you can, or you can wait until everything is sterilized since it's a little chilly back here."

You sit in comfortable silence until he asks you again to remove your shirt after he's gloved up and has everything prepared.

You do so obediently, folding it and setting it aside. Breasts now standing proud, nipples pebbling from the cool air.

"After I mark you can lay down, alright?"

"Alright."

Its so odd to have someone you're not fucking so close up and personal with your chest. You can feel his warm breath against your skin and it causes goosebumps to rise on your body.

"That look good?"

"Yeah, looks great." You smile and lay back.

"Great." He takes the set of forceps and as gently as possible clamps them onto your left nipple.

"You'll feel a pinch, I want you to breathe in nice and deep for me." Eren says as he prepares to push the needle through.

As soon as you breathe in, he pushes it through.

"Oh, fuck!" You hiss, clenching your jaw.

"Sorry." Eren laughs, moving quickly to your right breast.

Although your nipple is hard, he flicks it. Sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. His eyes flitting to yours before pressing the clamp around it.

"Again, deep breath in, sweetheart."

And God does that send an ache between your legs. You inhale, filling your lungs completely.

Expecting the pain, it doesn't hurt as much as the first. But you still hiss, jaw clenched tight.

"Good girl." He says at your breathing.

Eren takes note, cleaning you up quickly before taking his gloves off. He massages the joints of your jaw, making your mouth drop open slightly.

"You did so good." He smiles, tongue flitting over his lips.

You see the glint of a tongue piercing and wonder how it'd feel against your skin.

"You've got the prettiest tits I've seen." He says lowly, placing his thumb underneath and forefinger on either side of your breasts.

"If you weren't so fucking hot you'd have a bloody nose." You breathe, a moment of bravery, you grip his jaw and pull him down for a kiss.

"God I wanna put my mouth on them." Eren groans, showing restraint as to not hinder the healing process.

"Suppose I'll have to see you again when they're all healed." You grin, hand gripping his hair as you press your lips to his again.

He clambers into the piercing chair with you, knee between your legs. His hands gripping your waist.

"Can I eat you out? Please?"

"Since you asked so nicely." You coo, reaching between where he's pressed against you to unbutton your pants.

"Lay back, sweetheart."

Eren shimmies down, his feet hanging off the edge of the long seat. He grabs the waist of your pants and tugs them down with your panties.

"Oh fuck." He groans, taking in the princess Diana piercing that goes through the hood of your clit.

"Pretty isn't it?" You grin.

"Levi do this? That bastard got to see this gorgeous fuckin' cunt?"

"Jealous?"

Eren glares up at you before diving in, tongue dipping into your hole. Nose nudging at your sensitive clit.

You gasp, tangling your hands in his hair again, pulling him closer to your cunt.

He groans against you, vibrations sending a jolt up your spine. Heat filling your body.

Afraid to get his piercing caught on yours, he avoids touching his tongue to your clit. Instead opting to nose at it, and rub his thumb over it.

"Feel s'good!" You moan, rocking down against his face.

You could feel him smirk against you at your desperation. You grip his hair tighter, basically riding his face with how you cant your hips up.

He's licking at you like a man starved, eyes focused on your face as he feasts. He dips both thumbs into your cunt, spreading it open, pushing back against your hands so he can spit.

"Such a desperate thing." He coos teasingly, face soaked.

"If you don't get your mouth back on me I swea I'll- ah! Hhmf! Fuck!" You hiccup, head thrown back as he fucks you with his tongue.

One hand still tangled in his hair, the other pressed to your mouth. Your teeth biting into your knuckles to muffle your sounds.

You feel that familiar knot in your stomach, heat pooling heavily.

"Im- fuck- I'm cumming- gonna cum!" You moan, thighs squeezing tight around his head as you ride out your high.

Hips jerking as you ride his face.

Eren pulls away with a filthy grin, licking his lips before wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Let me return the favor." You pant, releasing your hold on him.

You make quick work of pulling his pants down, and pulling his cock out of his boxers.

"Fuck- you're pierced here too?" You gasp, licking over your lips as you trail your fingers over the three piercings down the shaft.

"Pretty, huh?" He takes your words, smirking down at you.

"Bastard." You quip, licking a hot stripe from the base to the crown.

Tongue dipping into the slit, tasting the pre that has beaded there. It causes Eren to moan and you can't help but clench your thighs at the gorgeous sound.

You love when men moan for you, you love drawing out the pretty sounds they make. And Eren is no exception, his moans get high and breathy.

You kiss the barbell of the piercings before taking the length of his cock into your throat in one go. Eyes trained on his face like his were on yours.

"Holy fuck- that's so good-" he rasps, fisting a hand into your hair.

Not to push and pull your head, but simply to ground himself.

"Where's the cocky bastard who just ate me out, hm?" You say once your mouth is free of him.

He glares at you, gripping the side of your jaw to make your mouth open before feeding his cock into your mouth.

"Such a damn brat, this what you want?" He groans as he uses your throat.

You can feel the piercings drag against your throat, in deep and then back to your tongue. Your cunt weeps with arousal in response to how he uses you.

"Gonna use that cunt next, cum all over that pretty clit. You're gonna be mine- my little cum dump." He groans.

You whine around his cock, looking up at him with watery eyes. It nearly makes him blow his load, dick twitching in your throat.

He holds himself there, grinning at the way your throat contracts around him, how you gag.

"Mm that's right, choke on me. Good girl." He pulls out of your mouth, giving you a moment to breathe.

A mixture of spit and precum connecting your lips to the length of him. You pant heavily, tongue lolled out of your mouth.

Eren shoves himself back down your throat, holding the sides of your head as he thrusts his hips. Tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat with each thrust.

"So fuckin' pretty." He groans, pulling out to jerk himself off over your face.

You keep your tongue out, eyes trained on his. Waiting patiently for him to cum over your face.

His hand grips your hair, tilting your head as he spills over your face and tongue.

"Fuck. Fuck- can I take your picture?"

You nod, making sure none of his cum drips from your face to your breasts. He's quick to grab his phone and open the camera, snapping a few photos.

"Now lay back and let me fuck that pussy."

You grin and settle back, spreading your legs for him.

"Good girl."